Latest News and Reflections

“I go among trees and sit still.” — Mary Oliver As I write this, I am sitting on my couch wrapped in a snuggly dressing gown. All is quiet and dark and cold around me. This is where my body is, but not where my mind wanders. In my mind I am remembering spending a summer sunset looking out over a field of rose gum trees. We were in that in-between moment when the sun begins to set, throwing sparkling golden light across every leaf and making them glow as though lit from within. Delicate leaves, edged with golden highlights and gentle shadows, moved in the breeze like a cloud of dancers lit by a field of flickering candles. The green of each leaf seemed more vivid than should be possible, as if the colour saturation was turned to its maximum — and yet there was no filter on the screen of my vision. Despite the flow of warm orange light across the field, the sky remained a clear, bright blue, not yet softened by the fading day. That unblemished blueness was a striking backdrop, making the leaves appear even more green by contrast, while the trunks and meandering branches of the rose gums glowed like pink caramel — bringing to mind the warm prickle of childhood sunburns and summer holidays.  Moments like this quietly remind me why connection to nature matters so deeply to my work, my wellbeing, and the way I move through the world. It is in moments like this — when I stop, notice, and breathe — that my connection to not just nature, but to myself feels most alive. I find myself wanting to open my eyes wider than usual — to absorb all the details and store them carefully in my mind and heart. I want to capture the memory as a secret treat to be unwrapped later when I am surrounded by four walls and glowing screens, too clouded by to-do lists to look out of the window and appreciate the world around me. Perhaps then, if I am clever enough, I can unwrap this chocolate-box memory and let it remind me to breathe, to remain aware that I am actually very small — and that life is inexorably, unfathomably, undeniably, enormously beautiful. My invitation to you Let’s take a moment, or a few, to pause and observe something natural. Look out of the window and see a tree, whether lush or rugged, and listen to its story. Look at a potted plant and admire a single soft leaf, unfurling without being taught how, perfectly emerging to drink the air. Can you see a branch silhouetted against the sky, a flower peeping into the world, a vine perfectly hugging a wall, a pattern of shadow leaves moving in a breeze? Let’s take a deep breath and, for a few heartbeats, just be present in that moment. This is nature’s quiet invitation. Nothing is asking to be achieved or fixed. Nothing needs to be rushed. When I slow down enough to observe these moments, my body responds before my thoughts do. My shoulders drop. My breath deepens. My nervous system settles. This is where creativity begins for me — not from striving, but from listening.

Why do we make what we make? Musings on the meaning of a mug being, perhaps, what it is really all about...

"When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change," Dr. Wayne Dyer

Oh the times, they are a-changin'... (Bob Dylan)

Happy Heart Ceramics has evolved into Rhianon Rose Ceramics. As an artist, Rhianon is stepping out of the shadows. While the name has changed, the happiness-inspired ceramic art remains the same and Rhianon still loves to create functional pottery that brings joy to the rituals of daily life.